


Fragmented Answers to Unsolvable Riddles

by MistyBeethoven



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Chubby Oswald Cobblepot, Desperation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies, Eventual Sex, Hand Jobs, Healing, Healing Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Pain, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery, Rimming, Romantic Soulmates, Set 5 years after 5x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-06 00:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: Wherein Edward Nygma, out of his love for Oswald Cobblepot, turns to an enemy for the answer to a question he cannot solve.





	1. Chapter 1

Oswald Cobblepot stepped out from the Blackgate Prison doors. The sun was too bright in his good eye. He did not like it; he did not like the cloudless blue sky or the way that the day seemed so cheerful and unaware of the pain birthed behind those prison doors. It was a pain the Penguin was bringing with him this time when he left. He would have preferred a grey clouded sky, crying tears of acid rain.

All he was given was a beautiful summer's day.

Another thing Cobblepot did not like was the group of reporters waiting for him by the limousine he had requested. They always flocked together like a group of vultures every time one of his stays at Blackgate had finished. Apparently, Batman and his little friend Robin hadn't done anything too interesting the night before.

Penguin avoided the microphones pushed into his face, avoided the same old tired questions and half threw himself into the limo's back seat. He inhaled deeply, feeling his heart racing."

"Hi Boss," Horace greeted from behind the steering wheel. "Where you want to go?"

"Just drive around for a bit," Penguin answered.

"You don't want to go home or to the Iceberg Lounge?"

It was a fair question; Penguin understood that. Normally any other day he would have ordered he be taken immediately to the Van Dahl manor or his place of work. This time, though, Oswald felt the distinct need to think.

"No, Horace. I'd like to see things for a bit. You never _can_ tell what has changed."

Horace paused, confused. "But you were only in there for two weeks this time, Boss."

Oswald bit his lip, trying not to cry. Two weeks had been enough. "I know Horace. A lot can happen in that time, don't you think?"

"Sure thing Boss."

Penguin fell back against the cushioned seat. He sighed and raised the partition, giving himself some much needed privacy.

It was good to be free of Blackgate but it was frightening as well. Everything felt different and Cobblepot did not look forward to what he needed to do next.

Oswald looked to the vacant space beside him. When he had been released five years ago from Blackgate, after James Gordon had put him away for ten years, Edward Nygma had sat there later that night. It had been the place of their reunion and Edward had shared the back seat of the limo with him countless times since. He had always been there to meet him when leaving Blackgate or Arkham.

The only reason he was not there now was because Oswald had requested him not to come.

The Penguin had wanted time to prepare himself; he was dreading what was to come, what he needed to do.

Nygma was the one man he trusted. He was also the one man Oswald wished he could hide the truth from. It was cruel that it was an option left unavailable to him.

Oswald felt the surface of the seat where Edward should have been sitting. He lay down on it and started to weep.

"Hey Boss...Are you _sure_ you are all right?" Horace asked.

"Yes, Horace," Oswald lied. " Just thankful to be out."

* * *

Something was wrong, Edward Nygma thought as he lay on the couch waiting for the arrival of Oswald Cobblepot. Horace had gone to pick Oswald up from Blackgate at two o'clock and here it was hours later; the sky had already changed from bright blue to navy.

Of course, something had alerted Nygma that something was amiss the moment Cobblepot had requested him not to go in the limo to greet him upon his release. Except for that first time years back, the day which had coincided with Batman's first appearance, Nygma had always been there when Oswald was set free. The system they had implemented had worked out well: one of them always on the outside. There had only been a few times when they had been incarcerated simultaneously and Oswald's bribery had always made sure that it was at the same institution.

The Penguin had chosen Blackgate this time for his lonely captivity. He had exclaimed Arkham was boring without Edward. Penguin had smiled when he had kissed the Riddler goodbye and told him that they would see each other again soon.

And it had been soon enough; it had lasted only two weeks. Although even that felt like an eternity to Nygma, to be honest.

So what had changed? What had caused the upset in their established routine?

Nygma was a man who liked order; he liked everything in its place and under his control. He had been known to become perturbed when the servants strayed from purchasing the usual brand of toilet paper. Oswald's sudden deviation was making his mind feel uneasy.

He lay across the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to imagine causes for the change of routine but his mind drew a blank. Penguin had bribed Arkham officials to give Ed an early release and Nygma had tried to stay clean during Oswald's own absence to prevent being captured and put away again.

It also seemed unlikely Batman was plotting anything. The do-gooder usually kept his nose out of their business until they actually had or were committing a crime. He was annoying but predictable. Of course there was always the chance the man behind the mask was up to something. They still didn't really know who the Caped Crusader really was even after all of these years and their vain attempts to find out.

Nygma's mind still raced, looking for an answer for Oswald's motives. He closed his eyes and tried to meditate but found it fruitless. Meditation was better suited for those less inclined to be obsessive compulsive and whose minds weren't overflowing with facts and figures.

It didn't help any that he was half mad with wanting to make love to Oswald Cobblepot. He kept getting an erection everytime he thought of his chubby, handsome, umbrella toting sweetheart.

Before Gordon had locked them away for ten years Nygma had finally accepted and realized that he had fallen in love with his friend. They had started fucking like rabbits after that; a habit they had enthusiastically resumed after their mutual freedom and reunion.

A two week separation had seemed an eternity.

A horrifying thought occurred to the Riddler and he bolted upright in unease. What if Oswald had fallen out of love with him? What if they had messed with his mind again and the man no longer harboured the intense love that had consumed him for years?

Edward ran a hand through his dark hair. He didn't want to think about it.

For years he had denied reciprocating the Penguin's love for him. Until, holding onto a man who obviously loved him wholeheartedly and would die for him, he had finally surrendered and embraced that love.

Edward Nygma was a logical and detached man except when it came to matters of the heart and then he tended to become possessive, obsessive and mad with it; finally he had given his love to someone who wanted to be loved by him and didn't mind it was in that specific way. Maybe they were codependent Edward thought; it was just another word to add to all the various quacks' evaluations of him over at the nut house. There were so many diagnoses by now one more didn't really matter.

Nygma just wanted Oswald to still be in love with him just as desperately as he always had been.

With new alarm, Edward heard the limo driving up to the main entrance. Oswald had finally arrived.

Edward stood and turned as Oswald entered the room. He could tell something was wrong from the first glance taken of his lover. Usually Penguin prided himself in his immaculate dress; now his clothes looked slightly disheveled and his good eye was raw and red. Cobblepot had obviously been crying.

"Hello Edward," Penguin said. He tried to offer a smile but it seemed unnatural and repeatedly faltered.

"Oswald?" Edward said.

Penguin stood there in silence. Edward had the distinct feeling that the man was trying his best to not fall apart.

"Edward can I speak with you in my bedroom?"

Nygma nodded and hurried to Oswald's side, knowing that what the man was going to tell him was not good. He feared it more than he had ever feared a shadow created by a man dressed as a giant bat.

The two men turned and walked quietly to the bedroom they had shared for the last five years. They had tried to keep their relationship a secret and if any of the servants suspected, including Horace, they kept it to themselves in fear of either being fired or, worse. Information would always be both valuable and deadly in Gotham City.

Edward walked faster than Oswald, wanting to discover what was wrong as quickly as he could. Oswald lagged behind as if his secret had physical weight that prevented him speed.

Edward held the door open for his love. He closed and locked it once they were both safely inside.

Oswald stood in the middle of the room. Fresh tears were threatening to fall from his eye, which looked incredibly green, but he was fighting them. 

"Edward I...Edward..."

Nygma came to stand in front of him

"It's okay. I'm here," the Riddler said and went to place his hands reassuringly on his lover's shoulders. The other man backed away violently from the contact.

Panic claimed Penguin's features followed by regret. "Ed...Ed...I..I was..." he stammered trying to explain.

Looking into Oswald's face, seeing the pain and desperation displayed so plainly, realization came to Edward Nygma.

He felt as if he were about to die.

"Oh my God...They got to you didn't they?"

Oswald looked relieved at first that Edward had understood what had happened and spared him from actually saying it. Then relief turned to fear and fear to shame. "You don't...You don't _hate_ me _do_ you?"

Edward was in shock but the look on Oswald's face shoved that shock aside. "No!" he shook his head vehemently.

"I'm not...I'm not dirty?" the Penguin asked and he sounded so scared and like a child that the Riddler could feel his heart breaking.

"No. Never," he wanted to hold his lover's face but remembering his reaction to his previous touch held back. "It wasn't your fault, Oswald."

"I'm too fat. I'm getting too old," Cobblepot wailed.

" _No!_ "

"But if I had just done _one_ thing differently maybe..."

"Listen to me, it is _NOT_ your fault," Edward tried to meet the other man's eyes. "It's always a risk in there. It just happens."

"They got ahold of some anesthetic from the infirmary. They shot my arms and legs full of the stuff."

Edward tried not to start shaking.

"There were four. They held me and took turns..." Oswald said. "I started to regain feeling by the end. I guess they didn't use as much as they thought..."

" _Four_ ,"  Edward Nygma thought.  _Four times._ To have avoided it for so many years and then...

"I killed them before they got a chance to leave that room and tell anyone, Ed. There was a hammer some person had left around. I didn't want anybody to find out...to think I-I was w-weak. _I didn't want them to think they all could do that to me!_ "

"I'm the only person you've told?" Edward asked.

Oswald bit his lower lip and nodded. "I don't want anybody else to know! You have to promise me, Ed, that you won't tell anybody!"

Nygma nodded and Oswald seemed to calm down.

"You haven't been tested?" Riddler suddenly realized.

Oswald sighed and looked down. "I want you to do it. That's what I wanted to ask you."

Edward Nygma nodded, pushing down the fear that was threatening to make him lose his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Edward Nygma performs a painful task.

Oswald had told him the attack had occurred five days before his release which meant that they needed to wait several weeks before performing the majority of the tests.

Even then if they came back negative they would need to recheck some months later just to be sure.

"So you kept it to yourself those five days?" Nygma said trying to imagine the pain Oswald had suffered in silence.

Penguin nodded, sitting on the bed.

"You could have told me," Nygma said. "I would have gotten you out of there in a heartbeat."

"And have to go back?" Oswald said cradling himself. "I just wanted to come home, be with you and never see that Godforsaken hellhole again!"

"You're safe now," Ed comforted.

Oswald looked up, tears streaming from his eye. "Edward...about sleeping in the same bed I don't know if I can."

Nygma offered a reassuring nod. "I understand. I'll sleep somewhere else."

" _Here_!" Oswald exclaimed. "Sleep _here_! In the room next door. I want you nearby. I just..."

"I understand Oswald," Edward cut him off. "I'll be right here in case you need me."

"Good," Oswald smiled. Ed treasured that smile for it was honest and happy and made the strained face look boyish again. "It is _sooo_ good to be back home."

"I'm so glad you're back," Nygma replied truthfully. "This place is lonely without you."

"I missed you, Ed."

"It was mutual Oswald."

Penguin smiled. They sat in silence for a moment or two.

"You look tired," Edward commented. "You should get some sleep."

"I will," the shorter man stated. "I just need a bath first."

Nygma nodded and watched as his lover walked into the adjoining bathroom; he listened to the sound of the running water. To anybody watching he would have seemed like a portrait of calmness and composure.

It was a lie.

Inside he was in chaos.

Edward Nygma wanted to _destroy_ something. He wanted to torture the men that had done that to Oswald, wanted to kill them slowly and painfully. They were already dead, though, so his rage could not be appeased in such a fashion. He imagined burning Blackgate to the ground so it would be only a pile of ash, scattered in the wind, but he knew that to do so would be foolish. If he did something so reckless they would lock him away for a very long time. No amount of bribery could escape that and what he needed now, most of all, was to be there for Oswald.

The Riddler looked at the clock on the nightstand. Oswald had been gone for too long.

Edward went to the bathroom door and knocked on it. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine...I'm fine," came the eventual reply and Nygma sighed in relief. "I'm just trying to get clean. You know Blackgate. Filthy filthy.

He wasn't really talking about the prison. Edward, brilliant as he was, didn't need to be a genius to understand that. He was trying to wash away what had happened to him, afraid he would never feel clean again.

"It's okay Oswald," Edward said gently touching the door, wishing he was touching the man he was talking to instead.

From the other side of the door, Nygma heard the sound of Oswald beginning to cry

* * *

Four weeks seemed like four hundred years.

Oswald and Edward tried their best to fill the time with things to keep their minds occupied but both men felt like they were going mad.

It was clear that Oswald still loved and needed Ed but he was having difficulty in knowing how to act. The man was jumpy and on edge. He cast nervous glances behind him as if worried he would be assaulted in his own home. Nygma had found himself coughing before entering a room so he could alert the man of his presence and not startle him.

Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't.

The staff could also tell something was wrong but had not dared, or hadn't cared enough, to ask. Only Horace had approached Nygma one day while he was alone in his office.

"Listen...Is the boss okay?" he had asked, his big hound dog eyes conveying his worry.

Edward didn't know what to say. The truth was out of the question so he had come up with a lie. "Mr. Cobblepot has suffered a loss, Horace. A family member has died."

"Jeez that's too bad. Didn't know he had any family left besides you and me."

Nygma nodded.

"Does he need me to take him to the funeral?"

"No Horace. We sent flowers. That's good enough."

"Okay," the mountain of a man said and started to leave the room. He turned around before exiting completely. "You sure do care about the Boss dontcha, Mr. Nygma?"

Edward smiled. "Yes I do Horace."

The man offered a bright grin and left.

Nygma sighed. He sat down at the large desk and held his head in his hands.

Just one more week.

* * *

Oswald had built a laboratory for Edward Nygma in the upper east wing. Cobblepot had understood his lover's incessant need to question, probe and experiment. The Riddler had once built a submarine by himself, after all. The man required constant stimulation and the room helped provide this.

Nygma had never thought he'd be using the lab for this, however.

Oswald Cobblepot was lying on the table as Edward Nygma took the required swabs.

He had been Oswald's physician for the past five years. The Penguin trusted so few people and Nygma's vast knowledge aided him in taking care of his medical needs. Truth be told, Edward had always gotten a secret dirty thrill out of playing Doctor with his lover. He liked the latex gloves and getting to explore the other man's body under the veil of medical pretense. It was fun in a kinky way.

There was nothing fun in this, however. Oswald lay on the table looking humiliated.

"Done," Edward said.

"Good," Oswald said practically jumping off of the table to get dressed.

He was hastily putting on his shirt as Edward was running the second few steps.

"And then we have to do this in a few more months again, to be sure?" Oswald said looking down as he fumbled with the buttons.

"Yes," Nygma replied. His voice sounded detached as if it was coming from some other room.

"And...you'll still want me if they come back positive?" The man was still purposely working on the buttons so he wouldn't have to look at his lover's face, afraid of what the answer would be.

Nygma rushed to the Penguin. He knelt on the ground in front of him and looked up. "I only want _you_ , Oswald. We can still be together. We'd just need to be careful. I'd be with you if I could never touch you again. You know I love being with you in that way but that is _NOT_ the only reason why I'm with you."

Oswald smiled, obviously relieved. "Just the...just the HIV one now?"

Nygma nodded. "I'll have the results for that one in about twenty minutes."

"That's fast," Oswald commented, his voice trembled.

Having taken care of the other tests the Riddler preformed the final one.

"If it makes you squeamish I advise you not to look," Edward said, preparing the needle.

Cobblepot nodded and looked away. Nygma didn't know how to solve the problem of his own weakness about what he was going to do. It was nothing more than taking a sample of blood yet he found it difficult to cause Oswald even the pain of a needle prick. Especially after what the man had already been through.

"Sing something Oswald," Edward said gently, as he poised to peirce the skin.

" _There's a place in the sun_ ," Oswald started, his voice shaky. " _Where there's hope for everyone..._ "

Wondering why his lover had chosen that particular song, Edward did what he needed, biting his lower lip.

" _And before my life is done, going to find me a place in the sun._ "

The man had ommitted a few lines, Nygma was sure but it didn't matter. He knew now why Oswald was singing it: the song promised some distant hope.

Nygma took the needle out and gently touched a cotton swab to where it had been. "Press down firmly on that and don't lift anything heavy for a few hours," he instructed as he went to start the test.

"That will be hard," Oswald joked. "You know me and manual labor."

Oswald waited in painful silence, pressing the swab down as he had been told. He kept glancing at his lover, searching his face for some sign. It was no use. Edward Nygma could keep his face emotionless when he was focusing on some task. It was why Cobblepot refused to play poker with him.

The emotion all came flooding back, however, twenty minutes later. Edward Nygma exhaled loudly; a smile which spread from ear to ear claimed his face.  "It's negative."

"It's negative?"

"Yes," Edward turned and smiled at Penguin; it was a smile he enthusiastically returned.

"Thank God," Oswald said.

In three more days the other tests came back clean also. In a few more months they all still remained negative.

Oswald Cobblepot physically seemed to be okay.

It was in his heart and soul where the poison still lingered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a lighter note, John Wick 3 comes out today. I wish I could go and see it and show my love for Robin Lord Taylor but I have social anxiety and something called AVPD, which basically means I am painfully shy. I did, however, just buy a ticket online for it for a showing in a theater in British Columbia to show some kind of support. I do not live anywhere near BC. Tonight at 9:55 there will be a vacant seat in a cineplex miles away from me showing John Wick 3. I wish I could be there and I hope his scene is still in it! Good luck Robin! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein a glimmer of hope presents itself to Edward Nygma.

Weeks after the final test, Edward Nygma found to his dismay that nothing had really changed. Oswald was still in pain and he could only stand by and watch in his own personal anguish.

The Riddler was discovering that he missed the little intimacies that had been born between Oswald and himself without his full realization and knowledge. Cobblepot had always been prone to lavish affection on Nygma. At odd moments, the man had liked to come up and hug him, offer a little touch or a give him a small kiss. It was usually unexpected and sometimes Ed had found it distracting when he was working on some intricate and complicated scheme. Those moments were gone now and Nygma was mourning their absence.

Most of all he missed Oswald Cobblepot.

The man who had returned from Gotham resembled the Penguin in only the vaguest form. Gone was the man with the pomp and circumstance; his confidence had been taken. His child-like glee and mischeiviousness had disappeared, as well; even his tantrums had vanished to be replaced by a melancholy cloud of sadness.

Once, long ago, the Riddler had mocked Oswald for the very traits that he now longed to see return. The irony seemed like some kind of punishment.

Shortly after the last test, Oswald had tried to let Edward sleep in the same bed with him like before. It had been a disaster. It had seemed fine at the start, although, Cobblepot had kept a space between them at all times. The problem had been, when after having fallen asleep and woken up again, Oswald did not know where he was. He had started screaming. Impulsively, Edward had tried to quieten him by holding him but the contact had only made it worse. Turning on the light, Nygma had hoped to show Oswald that it was only him there but the fear had not left his lover's face; it had remained. Returning to the bedroom next door, hearing the sounds of Oswald's apologies and tears behind him, Edward felt as helpless, haunted, scared and wounded as he ever had in his life.

For the first time,  Nygma did not know what to do. Nothing in his vast intelligence provided any answers. There were no solutions he could find on how to heal Oswald Cobblepot. He felt like nothing more than an idiot desperately searching for some answer to an unsolvable riddle.

Most of their time was spent caring for the Iceberg Lounge and in trying to make it through the day. There were no elaborate plans for criminal capers. There was only time available for surviving.

Oswald was trying. That was one of the saddest parts. Edward's heart was breaking at how the man was trying to recover yet failing so pathetically.  Penguin ate his meals after Edward had expressed concern that he was losing weight; he tried to laugh and smile but it all seemed more like a child pretending to behave in order to placate its mother than something genuine.

Oswald had long since even abandoned the safety of the Van Dahl mansion to venture outside. They went to the Iceberg Lounge, to the park or even shopping sometimes.

They met Jim Gordon at the supermarket once. It had been an odd encounter. Gordon kept looking at them strangely. Finally he had asked them both if they were doing all right, as if he was worried that they were ill because they hadn't performed one single act of crime in such a long time.

Nygma had wanted to scream at the man that, no, things were not all right, that they would never be all right again, but he only glowered at the Commissioner instead. Oswald had just nodded and looked away as if he was afraid the truth was written on his face and his enemy would discover it if he looked too long.

Getting into the limo, Edward tossing the bag of groceries on to the floor, Oswald sighed. "He seemed concerned. To think, I would have actually given a damn once."

"Learning about our arrests were probably the highlight of his day," Nygma grumbled. "He probably has nothing to live for now."

Oswald smiled the sad little smile that was common these days. "Well there's that, at least."

Sometimes Nygma wondered what Batman thought about the sudden vanishing act of both the Penguin and the Riddler. Did he think they had dropped off the side of the world? Did he envision them leaving Gotham for an early retirement in Florida? Maybe he thought they had finally met their Maker or killed one another in some heated argument.

Perhaps the Dark Knight didn't even notice them missing amid a constant barrage of new weirdos to apprehend.

Removed from it now, reading it in the papers or overhearing gossip at the Lounge, it seemed like a farce. Batman was having the direct opposite effect from the one that he desired; his presence was not subtracting from the level of crime being committed. He seemed to be _causing_ it. It was like the man was some god to every criminal and lunatic in the city and he was calling them out of the dark corners to come and do obeisance to him.

Edward found himself growing more and more incensed at the Dark Knight.

Batman was the reason that Oswald had been sent to Blackgate. If he had never been sent there then he never would have been...

Over the next few days, the notion of getting revenge on Batman consumed the Riddler. He envisioned getting Robin or Catwoman, hiring some thugs and threatening Batman that he would expose them to the same thing that had happened to Oswald. Of course, they really wouldn't be hurt but he wanted to make Batman have to momentarily experience what he was now going through every single day.

A strange thing occurred, however.

Edward found himself unable to go through with the idea. A certain empathy was coming to exist in his soul. He now knew what it felt like to love somebody and have to witness their pain.

What Edward Nygma was enduring was a pain he wouldn't have wished on his worst enemy.

And his worst enemy was Batman.

Sitting at the desk in his office, reading some story by some newbie reporter in the Gotham Gazette while Oswald slept on the couch, Edward started to think about why Batman was his enemy in the first place. It wasn't only because the creature always foiled his activities or even because the man kept locking him away.

The reason why he hated Batman so much, Edward Nygma finally accepted, was because he feared the man was as smart as he was.

No.

In truth, he feared Batman was  _smarter_ than he was.

Nygma valued his intelligence above mostly anything else. He viewed everyone, including even Oswald sometimes, as inferior and not on his level. When Batman had appeared it had caused a small dent in his ego to form. Over the years that dent had become a looming chasm and Nygma had loathed the masked man for the narcissistic injury he had caused.

Edward looked up from the paper as Oswald stirred on the couch; the man did not awaken but merely, whispering some word that sounded like mother, turned slightly and kept on sleeping. Edward studied his lover's face and felt a flood of love and sorrow for the other man.

Nygma grabbed the paper and stared at the perpetually scowling face of the Dark Knight.

Yes.

He hated Batman because he always knew the answers.

But maybe, the Riddler thought, some hope at last appearing to him, the man would have the answer to the only question that in fact mattered to him anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Batman asks Edward Nygma a riddle.

It wasn't difficult finding a way to manipulate a meeting with the Dark Knight. Ages ago, the Riddler had discerned that Batman kept his ears tuned into the workings of the underworld. He had suspected the vigilante had even used the Iceberg Lounge to find out certain information when he needed it. All Ed Nygma needed to do, he believed, was start a rumour about a planned robbery at Gotham Savings and Loans at a specific time and wait on the building's rooftop for the hero to show his stoic masked face.

He was _hoping_ that was all he needed to do.

The Riddler had dressed up for the occasion, donning a green suit he hadn't worn in months. He tried to hide it from Oswald, throwing a grey trenchcoat over it so the man wouldn't notice and ask any questions before he left.

Cobblepot still managed to find one question as the love of his life was heading out the door. "Where are you going?"

The Penguin was dressed in his pajamas and standing in the hallway. "I thought we were going to watch the Judge Judy marathon."

"I'm sorry. It's just something requires my attention," Ed apologized.

Oswald looked skeptical. He limped towards the Riddler. Nygma felt self conscious under his lover's scrutiny.

"You're wearing your bowler..." the Penguin folded back a corner of the coat. "And your green suit... _You're not going out to commit a crime are you_?"

Fear flooded Oswald's good eye. He was panicking with the thought that Nygma would be seperated from him and placed in Arkham again. Nygma almost smiled at the knowledge that Cobblepot suspected him more of doing something criminal than committing an act of infidelity. Oswald didn't have to worry, Ed knew fully well. He wasn't going to risk even tripping an alarm in case Batman locked him up for something as trivial as that.

"No Oswald," he said comfortingly. "I'm doing this for _you_."

Both men looked at one another in the darkened hallway. Cobblepot opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it.

"Okay," Penguin finally said.

Nygma smiled at him. He wanted to hold Oswald's shoulders and kiss the top of the shorter man's head but was aware of the adverse reaction it may cause.

"I love you so much, Oswald," Nygma said.

They were only words but, at least, they were the truth.

* * *

Edward Nygma sat waiting on the rooftop of Gotham Savings and Loans. He was trying to ignore the sudden apprehension threatening to claim him; it was getting late and still Batman had failed to arrive. Instead, Nygma had sat listening to the different sirens on Gotham's jammed streets wondering if they had warranted the Caped Crusader's attention more than a supposed threat to a little old bank.

The man in the green suit was about to give up his vigil when two shadows appeared, landing on the Bank's rooftop like whispers. The Riddler stood from the box he had been sitting on. Usually the sight of the Dark Knight instilled some distant fear inside of him, though, he would never admit it.

Tonight he felt only relief.

"So you did come, after all. You're reliable at least. If you came to save the residents of Gotham City's hard earned cash don't sweat it. I just need to talk with you," the Riddler stated.

Batman's face was stone; he showed neither doubt or belief.

"You need to _talk_?" Robin smirked. "Find a good chat room then."

"Why don't you go find a babysitter, you little crayon eater. This is grown-up stuff we have to discuss," Riddler said. Looking at Robin the remark seemed stupid even to the villian. The Boy Wonder had grown about a foot and seemed on the verge of leaving childhood behind. Nygma was suddenly aware of how long he had been out of the loop; his old insults had become out of date.

The sidekick seemed unphased however. Or perhaps his mentor treated him in a similar condescending way and the boy had grown used to it.

"Send your playmate away," Riddler turned to Batman, choosing to ignore Robin's presence. "I don't want him here."

Robin started to complain but Batman turned to look at him and nodded. Robin looked visibly annoyed but turned and left. He jumped onto the next building, brazingly performing a somersault as he did so.

"What is it Riddler?" the Dark Knight asked when the boy was long out of earshot.

"What is it?" Riddler said. "Funny. Isn't that what I usually ask you? _What is it_? _What am I_? You know what's even more funny? I've been sitting here waiting for hours, trying to figure out a single riddle to ask in order to celebrate this monumental reunion but...I can't think of a single one; not one single stupid riddle."

Riddler studied his enemy's face. It was as blank as always. It was as if emotion was not welcome on it in any form, not even mild curiosity.

"I bet you could, _huh_?" Nygma asked. "Yes, I bet you could think of a million fitting ones. You're always _so_ smart. It bugs the shit of me usually, to be honest, but now I need your help."

"I have no time for games," Batman stated and turned to leave, his cape a swirl of black behind him.

" _YOU TELL ME HOW TO FIX IT_!" Edward Nygma screamed at the departing man, his voice a mixture of pain and rage.

It was those emotions so agonizingly obvious in the other man's voice that made Batman stop and turn around. "What do mean?" he asked.

" _Oswald Cobblepot_. You help me to make him better. You always solve all of my riddles...you know all of the answers. You tell me how to fix it," Nygma was on the verge of tears.

"I don't understand," Batman answered softly.

"He was raped. He was gang raped the last time you stuck him in Blackgate."

The words startled the Riddler almost as much as they did Batman. Both Oswald and himself had avoided using the word rape. Saying it out loud now forced Nygma to face the horror of what had happened to the man he loved. He felt as if the rooftop under his feet was collapsing and he was going to fall into Hell; truth was, however, he felt as if he had been living there ever since Oswald had told him about what had happened.

The Riddler and Batman stared at one another across the roof of the bank, under a pitch black sky. The stars hid behind unseen clouds, refusing to offer their light.

Suddenly seized by weariness, feeling his legs shaking beneath him, the Riddler collapsed on to the ground. He sat there holding his head in his hands as his nemesis continued to study him. It was the first time Batman had seen any emotion other than frustration and pride claim Ed Nygma.

"Has he been to counselling?" Batman finally asked.

"No. I'm the only one he had the courage to tell."

"Why is that?"

" _He loves me_ ," Edward answered. " _And_ _I love him_."

The Riddler looked up to see a look of pure shock on the Dark Knight's face. Only moments before he had believed the man incapable of any feelings and now here the reserve had finally been shaken.  "We've been lovers for years. It started long before you showed up. _You didn't know that_? After all this time?"

"I thought you were only criminal partners," Batman said.

Apparently, the Dark Knight _wasn't_ as smart as he'd given him credit for, Nygma thought.

"I guess, I should feel glad that we were sucessful in keeping it secret for all of these years. It isn't the type of thing you advertise when you're a criminal genius. What you love tends to make you vulnerable."

Batman nodded. It was the same with heroes too.

"I knew he'd lost his eye for you," Batman stated. "It was because he was in love with you?"

"Yes."

"It makes sense now. I never really thought about it," Batman said.

"You never really _thought_ about it," Edward said feeling a wave of contempt for the masked man. "No. You don't really _think_ about us do you? We aren't people to you, _are we_? You catch us and lock us up in dark places and you forget all about us until we escape from those same places so you can stick us back! You forget that we bleed as well. You forget that we are human too. _WHY DON'T YOU TRY TO SAVE US FOR A CHANGE?_ "

Silence for a moment as Batman considered the accusation before answering it. "You're right. I do forget. Just as you forget every one of your victims and the people that love _them_ ," Batman looked down at the angered man. His face held little sympathy but it held no condemnation either.

It was a fair rebuttal. Knowing what it felt like to be one of those people now Riddler found no words to argue. He sighed heavily.

"Everytime we have faced each other, you've always presented yourself as cold, Riddler," Batman broke the quiet which had settled uneasily around them. "You like to think of yourself as separate. You view emotions as a weakness. You've pretended you can't feel...That you are nothing more than your intellect. It's not true is it? Penguin became your humanity and that humanity, no matter what you told yourself, gave you strength. Now that he is damaged you find yourself weak."

The Riddler looked down. It was true. He had poured all of his emotions into Oswald Cobblepot like a cup. Now the cup was broken and Edward Nygma could no longer drink from it and gain nourishment; he was lost.

"You know the first time we made love, he cried," Nygma confessed, looking down at his knee. "It hurt him but...he just let me. He wanted it because he loved me."

Had the Riddler looked up he would have witnessed a look of embarrassment on Batman's face as the man looked away uncomfortably. Hearing about his enemies sex lives was obviously not high on the Dark Knight's itinerary.

"I just keep thinking about those others doing...doing that same thing to him and how...and how they wouldn't _care_ if they hurt him...How they _wanted_ to hurt him. Then I feel like I'm going crazy. Then I think about what he must be going through and I feel like I'm dying."

Edward Nygma started to cry. It was a testament to the agony he was suffering that he no longer cared that it was in front of his worst enemy.

"Have you told him this?" Batman asked after Nygma's bout of weeping subsided.

"No. We don't talk about it much."

"You should. The fact that you care so much might help. In fact you should help him to talk about it too. Then you have to help him move on but...The bullet is still in him. Usually when tragedy occurs we blame ourselves; we feel guilty and ashamed. Tragedy reminds us that we sometimes have no control in our lives. Penguin always valued the control and power he had. Now he, no doubt, feels powerless. Just as _you_ do,  Nygma."

"What about you? Do you feel powerless?" the Riddler asked looking up at the Caped Crusader. "You're talking from experience, aren't you?'

The Dark Knight remained silent. The night wind passed through his cape. It was the only movement made.

Riddler smiled. "The Joker's always telling us something happened to you. He's right isn't he? Something happened and you don't know how to fix it either...So you run around in a stupid cape trying to save everybody before they become broken like you?"

"It's too late for that Riddler," Batman whispered. "Everybody is already broken."

It was possibly the truest thing the man had ever said.

When the Riddler did not speak, Batman turned to leave. Nygma got to his feet and shook the dirt from off of his legs. At the edge of the building, the Dark Knight turned to look at Ed Nygma.

"Riddler," Batman said calling the other man's attention. "I've been known to fly or stand perfectly still, I can make someone better or make them grow ill. What am I?"

The Riddler did not need to think about it. "You are time."

"Give him that. Afterwards, make sure you both stay clean. I have no choice if you don't; I _will_ have to send you back to those dark places," Batman warned.

"I understand but, sorry, I can't help you out there," Riddler laughed joylessly. "The minute Oswald wants to steal something I'll know he's back to normal."

Batman shook his head, sadly. "Still...there was a time the both of you did change, if only for a moment. I never really thanked you, or the Penguin, for fighting with us to save Gotham all those years ago," the Dark Knight said. "I'm thanking you both now. Better late than never?"

Nygma's mouth opened in sudden dawning. "You were there?"

Batman grinned. He turned and jumped from the building, his arms outstretched like some black winged angel.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Edward Nygma goes shopping and helps Oswald Cobblepot to remove a bullet.

Walking home, always a dangerous decision to make in Gotham City at night, Edward Nygma found himself deep in thought. He was unsure just how helpful his meeting with the Dark Knight had been. He had most certainly already given the situation time. It had been the only thing he had been able to do. Still, Batman's suggestion to get Oswald to talk about the rape did seem reasonable.

Rape.

They claimed if you said a word often enough it became less powerful; Edward doubted that particular one would ever lose its power to make him nauseous no matter how much he said or thought it.

A question still presented itself: how could he urge Oswald to talk about something that had damaged him so badly?

The Riddler realized now, in retrospect, some of their most honest discussions had occurred while they had been in bed together. In the bedroom that they shared, lying in each other's arms, they had confessed the most secret things and had the courage to bare not only the flesh of their bodies but the hidden corners of their hearts and souls, as well. Now Oswald feared being in the same bed with him.

How could he get the Penguin to confess anything that was inwardly destroying him?

The Riddler was so lost in thought he failed to notice the scraggly man approaching him.

"You got a cigarette?"

"What?" Nygma said shaken out of his reverie. He studied the panhandler. The stranger looked like he had spent a fair amount of time sampling every recreational drug known to existence. "No."

"How about your wallet then?" the man asked, pulling out a revolver. "You do have one of those, I take it? And I _will_ take it."

The Riddler glared at the man and weighed his options. One choice rose above all the others. Surely Batman wouldn't mind, Edward thought. The goody two shoes did that sort of thing every night, after all.

Still he had to make sure.

"You're a bad guy right?" Nygma asked.

"What the hell?"

"I take it you're the average run of the mill criminal?" the Riddler asked. "You just enjoy taking somebody's money? You don't know who I am? You're just a selfish little prick?"

"Listen, ya freak, I don't know who the hell you are and yeah! I'm a bad guy," the man spat. "No! Wait! If it makes you feel better, I have a baby at home and she's hungry and I need new batteries for the monitor so why don't you make a donation and hand over your wallet!"

"What did you say?" Nygma asked, his mouth dropping open.

"I said hand over your..."

"No. Before that."

"I need new batteries for the monitor?" the mugger looked confused.

" _Yes!_ " Ed exclaimed smiling widely. " _That's it!_ Thank you!"

"Good. Glad to be of service," the mugger said, nodding his head affably. "Now can I please have the wallet?"

"How about a riddle instead?" Ed suggested, the smile on his face was an omen the thug did not understand.

"A riddle?"

"Yes. A riddle. What is about to go out like a light and will have a major headache in the morning?"

The mugger shook his head in incomprehension.

"Give up?"

The thief nodded.

" _You_!"

Swiftly, Nygma elbowed the man in the stomach, grabbing his gun which had proceeded in flying up in the air. The Riddler brought it down full force on the mugger's head, making him pass out onto the cold city sidewalk.

"You'll have to forgive me. It wasn't one of my best. Admittedly, I'm a bit rusty," the Riddler apologized, sheepishly.

As he passed a garbage bin, he threw the gun inside.

Edward Nygma was feeling better already.

* * *

"What is this?" Oswald asked as Edward handed him a present from the bag he was holding. Cobblepot was sitting on the edge of the bed they used to share but where he now slept alone.

"Open it and find out," Nygma instructed.

His face contorted in confusion, Oswald opened the box and discovered an electronic device.

"A baby monitor? You spray painted a baby monitor?"

Edward frowned. He had been hoping to disguise it somewhat by painting it black in an attempt to fool his lover a bit. He had obviously failed.

"Ed, I know you think I act childish sometimes but don't you think this is taking things a bit too far?"

"It _is_ a baby monitor but that wasn't what I was getting at," Ed explained. "I just wanted us to be able to talk to each other like we used to. I miss that."

Oswald turned the item over in his hands, examining it.

"Besides I can't fall asleep without the sound of you snoring."

Oswald placed the monitor on his lap. "Are you insinuating that I snore, Edward Nygma?"

"Stating not insinuating Oswald. You sound like two Canadian lumberjacks sawing down a mighty Redwood," Nygma teased.

"Yippee," Oswald smirked. "A baby monitor and an insult."

"Oh," Ed said pulling another present out from the bag. "One more thing."

"I can't wait to see what this is. A diaper maybe?" Oswald said sarcastically and Nygma smiled. Sass from Oswald Cobblepot was a good thing these days.

"It's you," the Penguin said holding up a plush doll of his lover. It was very simplistic but most definitely intended to be the Riddler.

Ed grinned. "They're selling them on the street. Black market stuff. They're a real hot commodity. I have one of my own."

Nygma reached one last time into the bag and pulled out another doll. It was dressed in a purple suit, had a pointed nose, was very round and wore a top hat and monocle. In other words, it was Oswald Cobblepot.

"They certainly stuffed it well enough, didn't they?" Oswald criticized.

"Hey!" Nygma said. "Don't you insult Tiny Oswald."

The Riddler hugged the plush close and the real Cobblepot tried to hide his jealousy by averting his eyes and studying the Riddler plush. "We aren't making any profits from these things are we?"

Nygma shook his head. "Not as far as I know."

"Get our accountant to look into that. You're telling me that parents are actually buying these things for their children?"

"Well the vendor said a lot of adults buy them too. You'd be surprised how many women buy the Joker and Batman ones and have them make out. Not to mention what the grown men are doing with Catwoman."

An impish grin flashed across Nygma's face. "So how about it Oswald? Wanna make out?"

Nygma brought the Oswald doll to the Riddler one, still clutched in the Penguin's hands, and had them kiss. He then started to rub them suggestively together.

"You're crazy," Oswald commented, a smile stealing across his face. It was a welcome replacement to the normal grimace.

"So they keep telling me at Arkham," the Riddler proclaimed. "Now excuse me while I go set my monitor up. Don't forget to place yours on the nightstand here."

Penguin watched as his lover left the room. There was a spring in the Riddler's step that made Cobblepot happy; it had been absent for so long. Happiness seemed almost a foreign thing to him now and he felt strange at its return even if it was only for a brief moment.

Oswald leaned over and placed the monitor on the stand. He looked at it and sighed.

Ed was trying to help him. Oswald was grateful for it but wondered if he would still wish to help him if he learned the full truth.

Cobblepot looked at the Riddler doll, and then kissing its forehead, held it closely to his heart.

* * *

If the Riddler had been hoping for the monitor to work an instantaneous miracle he was disappointed. At the start, Oswald had difficulty keeping, let alone starting, a conversation. From his lonely room, Ed had tried to get the man to talk about anything only to find Cobblepot willing to offer only one word replies or disjointed sentences.

Whenever, he found himself growing despondant, however, Nygma would remind himself of the Dark Knight's suggestion to give it time.

Batman was proven to be right.

After a few weeks, Oswald started to talk more. Maybe he was just becoming bored of his lover's own endless rambling, Edward Nygma thought, but his sentences were becoming longer; the silences were less frequent.

It was almost like it had been before.

"Ask me something you always wanted to but were afraid to," Ed urged one night, lying on his back on his bed. His hands were behind his head and he was in good spirits.

"Anything?"

"Anything Oswald."

A pause.

"When you made my glass eye...Why did you make the pupil so large?"

"You don't like it? I can fix it if you like."

"No, no, no," Oswald pushed away the suggestion. "I just always wondered."

Nygma smiled. "Pupils dilate to let in the required amount of light. When it's bright they become pinpoint because they don't need as much. You and I belong to the night. That is when we come alive, Oswald. Hence you would need as much light as you could get."

Oswald laughed. It was sincere and the Riddler treasured it. "What a thoughtful mad scientist you are, Edward Nygma."

They talked a bit more. Ed could tell Oswald was getting sleepy until finally he heard the two lumberjacks begin their sawing.

"Goodnight Oswald," Nygma smiled and then turned over and fell asleep.

* * *

A few days later, Oswald returned the dare. "Now you tell me something you've been afraid to."

Edward was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was dressed in a white undershirt and had on his green pajama bottoms.

He remembered Batman's words on the rooftop weeks ago.

Edward Nygma took a deep breath.

"I want you to know how much your pain has become my pain. Whenever I think of those men...when I think about them raping you I feel like I am dying, Oswald. I didn't always show it but making love with you was something I always...I always cherished. That they used that same act to hurt you...it seems like sacrilege to me. If they weren't dead already I'd murder them myself. I hate that you had to go through that alone. We've been just about everything to each other, haven't we, and it kills me that I couldn't save you....that I couldn't be your hero too."

Silence.

Edward listened to the sound of his own bated breaths until he found himself forgetting to breath all together.

"Oswald," he finally whispered.

"I'm tired Ed," the other man finally replied. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Oswald I..."

Nygma listened as Oswald picked up the monitor,  and having removed the batteries, as the device went suddenly dead.

* * *

The Riddler did not sleep. He tossed and turned. Occasionally, he went to Oswald's bedroom to peer in and make sure Penguin was still alive. He could tell from the rise and fall of the blanket that he was. Nygma doubted Oswald was sleeping, however, though he gave no sign of acknowledgement concerning his lover's constant visits.

The day did not improve matters.

Oswald refused to come out of his room. Edward was cursing himself for ever following the advice of a man who got his thrills out of dressing like a giant bat.

It was night once more and Edward Nygma was lying on the bed, feeling lost again after the progress he had made, when he heard a knock at the door.

It opened and Oswald Cobblepot stood in the doorway. He had obviously spent the day crying; his eyes were bloodshot. His night clothes were the same as the previous night and his hair was a mess.

All things considered, he was still the most beautiful thing Edward Nygma had seen all day.

"Ed, we need to talk," Oswald said, his voice was shaking.

Nygma nodded and sat forward on the bed. Oswald came and sat down at the end of it, keeping a distance between them. Edward noticed that it wasn't only the Penguin's voice that was trembling; the man's whole body was shaking like a kitten left outdoors in winter.

"Oswald I don't think you..."

Cobblepot put out a hand to stop his lover from talking. "This is important, Edward."

The Riddler looked at his love and put away his words; it was now time to listen.

"When I was...when I was r-r-raped," Oswald struggled with the word and looked relieved once he had finally said it. "They were saying things about my weight...they were laughing at it...they kept saying I smelled and how d-dirty I was...they were bringing up all the things I've dealt with for most of my life. These past years, you made me forget some of that. You've made me feel accepted and loved but they brought it all back...

"One of them looked like you. He wore glasses. He was tall and thin and his eyes were dark. Ed, he was the last and by that time I was so upset I...I just pretended he was you. I came, Edward. I'm so sorry."

Penguin looked down; tears escaped from his closed eyes.

Feeling only deep love and compassion, Edward moved closer to the man he loved. Sitting close enough, he found himself carefully doing what he had not dared to do in months; Edward Nygma touched Oswald Cobblepot.

Penguin did not back away this time but instead seemed to welcome the contact.

"It's okay Oswald," Nygma said holding his lover's face. Cobblepot's tears fell onto his hands, rolling between his fingers.

"They made fun of that too," Penguin continued. "He just...he just thought it was gross. They let go of me. I guess they thought I was too hurt to do anything. While they were gloating. I surprised them. I killed them. The one with the glasses I killed last.

"He was pleading for his life. H-he kept saying he'd fuck me again if I wanted. Saying hadn't I liked it?" Oswald cried. "But I didn't! And what had just happened hit me...I was in so much pain...and I hated him but all I could see was you. And I brought the hammer down and killed him just to try to make it stop.

"I keep seeing you dying and not him. I don't want to hurt you and I-I can't help feeling like I betrayed you."

Edward smiled sweetly. He now saw the face of the monster that was preventing Oswald from forgiving himself and it was a demon Nygma felt he could successfully conquer.

"You didn't hurt me. I'm right here. I know that you would never hurt me," Edward comforted. "And you didn't betray me at all. In that moment, you used your love for me to survive, Oswald. I am _truly_ grateful for that. Don't let it destroy you now that it's all over."

Oswald looked up with sweet eyes. Hope and gratitude filled them."I want you to know that you will always be my hero, Ed Nygma."

The Riddler gently kissed the Penguin's forehead as tears flooded his eyes.

Seeing how tired his lover looked the physician took over. "Now you go get some sleep," Ed ordered. "You look beat."

Oswald nodded. He stared shyly into the Riddler's eyes. "Edward...I still can't make love...and no offense to that stupid doll but...I would much rather sleep with the real thing tonight."

Nygma smiled. "I think we can manage that."

They sat for a while longer,  Edward Nygma holding Oswald Cobblepot and Oswald Cobblepot finding for the first time in a long time comfort in being held.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Edward Nygma distracts himself from an itch.

Two dolls sat on the shelf of the Van Dahl master bedroom: one dressed in green, the other in purple. If they felt any resentment over no longer being of any use they kept their threaded lips sealed and accepted the retirement given to them. Heads rested together, they watched as their real life counterparts shared the same bed after months of sleeping alone.

Their black button eyes witnessed Edward Nygma struggling with the problem of having an itch he could not scratch.

Often Ed woke to find Oswald holding onto him or discovered that they had changed positions sometime during the night and had ended up spooning. On these latter occasions, with the Penguin's ample buttocks so soft and warm against his lap, Nygma had to carefully slip away and rush to the bathroom before he startled his lover.

The contact had been an accident. Oswald was still not ready for intimacy of a sexual nature. Still Nygma's body was not aware of this fact and he was finding it difficult to remind it.

A distraction was needed, and like all good distractions to Ed Nygma, one would most likely involve testing both his genius and his criminal capability.

The famous emerald the Eastern Star was being showcased at the Gotham Museum in seven months and the Riddler intended to steal it away.

Even if it was only an act he could commit in his mind and the only reason it primarily interested him was because it was green.

"You _promise_ you don't really intend to steal it?" Oswald asked, his eyes narrowed in doubt. They were in the dining room. Oswald had already had two helpings. The Penguin's appetite had returned and he had regained any weight he had lost. It was exceedingly pleasing to the Riddler; Edward Nygma liked his Oswald squishy even if he could only look and not touch.

"No need to worry," Edward reassured. "I won't actually do anything. I just want to see if I'm still able to plan a good old fashioned jewel robbery. That is if Selina doesn't hatch one first. That girl likes to brag."

Oswald finished chewing his steak but still remained doubtful.

Watching his lover, Edward thought of an idea. "How about helping me out? It would be like old times."

Oswald shook his head.

"You don't have to worry. You'll be safe and sound," Edward gently added.

"No," Cobblepot stated resolutely as he dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin and Ed knew well enough to drop the subject.

The thought of being sent back to Blackgate, even if it was only in his imagination still had the power to terrify the man.

* * *

Over the next few days, Ed Nygma immersed himself in reviewing the blueprints for the museum and trying to discover the facts about the gem's transport into Gotham.

Horace drove both Oswald and him to several of the places that he needed to visit to acquire information. Once when Edward had gone alone, Cobblepot having stayed at the Lounge to oversee a shipment of new wine glasses, Horace had opened the car door for him. A wide grin was on the large man's face.

"The Boss is doing better now, huh?"

"Yes," Ed had nodded.

Horace's expression turned serious. "It wasn't no death in the family, was it?"

Ed shook his head slightly surprised the man had understood. "No it wasn't, Horace."

"I've seen my share of relatives and friends go into prison. I know what goes on in there. It's something they don't talk about none but...it still happens and it ain't good. It ain't good at all. Mr. Cobblepot...he's too sweet for that to have happened."

Ed was genuinely touched by the man's compassion.

"Plus he's head over heels in love with you, Mr. Nygma, so he probably felt three times as bad.

Shock was evident on every corner of the Riddler's face. "How did you know?"

Horace just smiled. "I may be a big old stupid bo hunk but I know love when I sees it. Besides I've got a nephew over in Metropolis who wants to marry Superman when he grows up. It's all good when it's all love is what I always say."

Climbing into the back seat of the limo, Edward started to laugh to himself. Horace had been able to figure out a truth that had eluded the Dark Knight for years.

Gotham was _full_ of surprises.

* * *

When Edward Nygma had been a young child he had once been sent to summer camp. That his parents had decided to send him to such a place had further reinforced his knowledge that he was not understood even by the two people who had given him life; the boy would much rather have set up a tent in the Gotham City Public Library then be sent out into the woods.

There were too many rocks.

There were too many trees.

There were too many other children.

Edward soon made the acquaintance of one such child; his name was Jason Parker. He was an obnoxious boy who tried to mask his lack of brainpower with a general air of swagger and cruelty. Years later when Ed met Tom Dougherty he would be reminded of the boy he had met on the bus to summer camp years ago.

Jason had  _not_ liked the way that Edward Nygma was dressed. Jason had _not_ liked his glasses or the way that he combed his hair. Jason had _not_ liked the way he smiled. In fact, there were so few things that Jason Parker had liked about him that Ed found himself wondering why the boy had still chosen to sit beside him at all. Jason did not have to worry about the smile, Ed thought to himself, as the bus had driven away from Gotham; it didn't seem likely that he would be finding much to smile about in the next few weeks.

At the camp ground, Edward found to his horror that he was sharing a cabin with Jason.

There was little to interest Nygma at the camp but he found himself fascinated by one thing against his will: a doe and her fawn were sometimes seen at the edge of a clearing close to the cabins. Edward watched as the other children attempted in vain to get the pair, especially the fawn, to come nearer. They tried with noises, bold and soft, to tempt it to come to them and Edward laughed to himself, knowing it was only driving the mother and child away.

Nygma knew better.

In the quiet of the morning, Edward would creep away from his bed and go to the clearing. Patiently and quietly he sat there and waited. Sometimes the fawn appeared with its mother while other times it was alone. Other times it did not show up at all.

At all times, Edward Nygma remained still.

Soon the sight of the strange boy captivated the fawn as much as the deer had won the children's interest. In time, the animal had approached Nygma.

He had been thrilled when it had sniffed him curiously and more thrilled when it had eaten some berries from out of his hand that he had collected for it.

Edward Nygma delighted in how he alone had been smart and worthy enough to win the fawn's affection.

His delight was cut short when Jason followed him one morning without his knowledge. While Ed had been feeding the fawn, Jason had appeared suddenly hollering and throwing rocks at the poor frightened creature. Edward had tried to step in front of it, getting pelted by a few rocks for the effort; the fawn had fled into the woods.

Edward had never seen it again.

A few days later, Nygma tripped and "accidentally" knocked Jason into a patch of poison ivy. The boy had been too busy scratching on the bus ride home to torment anybody else.

Now, so many years having passed, Edward was reminded of that deer whenever he looked at Oswald Cobblepot.

The man had been horribly hurt. While Penguin had allowed a few moments of contact, like that deer, he was still scared. Intimacy was something that had to be relearned.

And just as he had decades before with the fawn, Edward Nygma was determined to be patient and wait.

* * *

One evening, sitting at his desk, tinkering on a gadget that could momentarily cause a security alarm to malfunction. Edward was surprised to feel a kiss on his forehead.

He remained tinkering on the device as Oswald walked towards the couch and sat down. Edward was afraid to comment on what had just occurred, afraid doing so would cause attention to it and somehow spoil the moment; he merely sat in silence and enjoyed it.

The touches became more frequent. Sometimes Cobblepot would wrap his arms around Edward's neck or waist while the logician was busily working away on his schemes.

One day, Nygma silently motioned for Penguin to sit on his knee as he studied the engine designs for the armoured car that would be transporting the jewel.

"Have you forgotten that I'm fat, Edward?" Penguin asked.

"I have a very strong knee Oswald," Nygma stated and offered it to him.

Cobblepot hesitantly, then carefully, sat down on the offered knee; the Riddler once again enjoyed the softness of the Penguin's plump bottom. Together they looked at the designs; Nygma explained them to Oswald, enjoying how close the man's head came to his as he leaned forward to get a closer look.

"What does this thing look like anyway?" Oswald asked.

Assuming he was referring to the emerald, Edward pulled out a photograph of it from under the pile of documents on the table.

"It sure is big and shiny, isn't it?" Oswald said. His eyes sparkled with want as he looked at it. "I can see why every crook in Gotham is interested in it."

Staring at Cobblepot's handsome face so near to his, Edward scoffed at the notion that anybody could find the jewel valuable at all; the only thing precious in the whole of the world was the man who was sitting unafraid on his knee.

* * *

The sun having long since set, Edward Nygma sat alone in his office. Oswald had retired hours ago, allowing Nygma the opportunity to fool around with an umbrella he had dreamed up that would fit in perfectly with the concocted scheme to steal the Eastern Star.

Though Cobblepot still claimed to hold no interest in _imaginary_ thefts, Edward still held onto some hope that his friend and lover would eventually join him for a _real_ one. He was busily crafting an umbrella which would help to serve his partner in crime if the time came.

In truth, the Riddler had invented all of Oswald Cobblepot's umbrellas. He had been the man who had worked on bringing to life even the propeller umbrella that had frustrated Gotham City's law enforcers for years.  Any idea the Penguin conceived Nygma had the brains to bring it to life.

He was, however, working on the inside mechanics of one of his own designs when one of the tubes burst, spilling oil over him.

"Damn," Edward swore as he was suddenly covered in black liquid.

It seemed it was time to call it a night.

Covered in gunk, Edward made his way to the bedroom. Oswald was sleeping peacefully. Nygma crept quietly past him and towards the bathroom where he proceeded to clean himself off.

He walked back to the bedroom, stark naked, intending to put on a pair of fresh pajamas. Reaching the bedroom he reconsidered the idea. The room felt too hot, the main air conditioning unit was still not turned on, and he was suddenly very weary after having spent so much time, first at the Lounge and then in his office working on a theft he intended never to actually commit. Even Oswald had opted for a nightshirt instead of his pajamas.

The Riddler convinced himself it would be a brief rest; he would wake up before Oswald did. Slipping under satin sheets, Nygma placed his head on his pillow and fell asleep, all the while staring at the back of his lover's head.

Nygma awoke two hours later; his sheet had fallen away and Oswald was now awake as well. Penguin was staring at Edward Nygma's exposed body in the moonlight.

"You are _so_ beautiful," Oswald said. Cobblepot's eyes were filled with the same appreciation and desire as when he had looked at the Eastern Star.

Of course, Ed Nygma thought. He was well versed in the habits of the Penguin: the criminal saw and then desired. Still the man's eye glistened in the dark. He was crying.

Oswald wanted him but was still scared of the act of sex.

Edward gently took the Penguin's hand; he brought it to his lips and kissed it; the man held it to his chest and let it stay there over his heart.

To Nygma's surprise, Oswald closed his eyes and let his hand trail lower. Edward shifted as he came to life under his lover's touch. He tried to back away but the other man persisted.

Edward inhaled deeply as Oswald began to stroke him.

The Penguin opened his eyes once again.

"Are you sure?" Nygma asked looking into his lover's eyes, one of which he had made.

"Yes," Oswald whispered and then kissed him very gently.

The two dolls watched silently from their place on the shelf as the two men started to make love.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Edward Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot make love.

Edward Nygma lay in the darkened bedroom feeling himself growing painfully hard as Oswald Cobblepot caressed his erection while kissing him softly. Oswald was finally giving him permission to make love to him but even now Nygma knew to be careful.

He wanted Oswald to feel safe.

Edward rubbed his lips against Oswald's. He backed away slightly and used his tongue to gently lick Penguin's lips before returning his mouth fully to his lover's. Tongue met tongue and Oswald moved in hungrily intensifying the kiss. All the while his hands worked on the Riddler's cock, stroking and squeezing but pulling back before it became too much.

Oswald was the first to break the kiss. His lips instantly going to Edward's neck. He gently sucked on the clavicle before his kisses fell lower. Nygma groaned as Oswald's tongue found and played with each nipple until they became erect.

Still, Oswald Cobblepot's tongue had not finished its journey; it drifted from Edward's ribs to his navel until the Penguin's mouth was tightly wrapped around his cock. Ed bucked as his lover started to attend to his swollen member.

Deep breaths came from Nygma's mouth at the feel of tongue and lips. Oswald's hands reached around and started to explore his buttocks. Fingers dipped into the crevice and began to rub and feel.

"Oswald," Ed moaned his hands coming to the man's shoulders.

At his breaking point, Oswald relinquished the hold his mouth had on the cock. Ed Nygma's penis stood erect, swollen, red and impatient.

"Inside me," Oswald said.

"I already was," Ed said.

"You know what I mean," Cobblepot whispered.

And indeed Edward did.

The Riddler got to his knees, motioning for his lover to do so as well. Edward raised the other man's arms and lifted the night shirt from him.  Oswald was a large, round ball of doughy flesh in the moonlight; just the way Edward loved him.

The Riddler embraced the Penguin, taking his lips in a deep kiss. Bulbous stomach pressed against flat. Nygma delighted in it, feeling his erection press against Oswald's soft and large belly.

Cautiously, Edward started to kiss Oswald's chest and then stomach, his hands massaging the flesh and exploring it tentatively while Oswald became used to the contact. Nygma mirrored the Penguin's previous move. His fingers dipped inside the fleshy folds of his butt and started to rub the hole hidden inside.

Edward looked at the Penguin's cock. It was hard but not nearly at the stage Edward was himself. It was a matter he wished to rectify.

Edward reached over to the night stand and opened the drawer. There was a tube of lube that had been waiting there for over a year now. The Riddler had purchased it shortly before the Penguin's last stay at Blackgate had ended. He squeezed some onto his hands now.

Nygma grasped Cobblepot's penis and started to move his hand along the shaft, rubbing its slitted head and touching the balls underneath.

Penguin gasped as he felt his penis growing larger at his lover's machination. Edward rested the side of his face against Oswald's; he breathed on and then kissed his earlobe.

"You're still not _inside_ me," Oswald reminded breathlessly.

"I'm working on it," Edward whispered into his lover's ear. "Lie down."

Oswald nodded. Nygma smiled as his lover lay on his back. The Penguin was no longer half hard; his penis was a raw and throbbing monster.

Edward grabbed the discarded night shirt and folding it placed it under Oswald's ass. His mouth was close to Cobblepot's penis and it twitched expectantly.

"All in good time," Edward told it.

Spreading Oswald's legs, Edward saw the man half revealed in the light offered by the moon. Seeing the opening, Edward was suddenly hit by the remembrance of what had happened to his lover. Even more jolting was the knowledge of the humiliation that he had suffered. Edward remembered the Penguin's face as he had asked if he was dirty.

Nygma eyes stung in the dark. Penguin had often suffered insults about his hygiene or smell throughout his life. In insecurity about it, Oswald had tried to take extra care on how he showcased himself to others, presenting himself as a gentleman of crime. He always tried to make himself clean; he spent a fair amount of time on the task. It was tragic it had all come flooding back to him in the lies of a group of rapists.

Wanting to show Penguin that he was not dirty, that there was no part of him that he found disgusting, Edward Nygma brought his mouth to Oswald's hole and placed his tongue inside. He began to move it in and out, licking. It was something he had never thought about doing before but it did not repel him at all.

"Edward, wh-what are you doing?" Oswald asked. He was not distressed merely taken off guard.

Nygma's only reply was to grab Penguin's cock and begin to work it. It started to throb and leak in his hand as Cobblepot squirmed in ecstacy.

As Oswald started to moan and make his familiar sounds of sexual arousal, Edward thought to himself how much he had missed those noises; he thought about how much the joy of sex was in giving Oswald pleasure too.

Edward licked the length of Oswald's crack, to the perineum, tracing the raphe to the scrotum, stopping momentarily to pay his respect, before finally reaching the penis. His mouth now gave into Cobblepot's organ's previous request to be shown admiration. With intricate care he lavished his affection on it.

Precum was flooding Nygma's mouth as he grabbed the lubricant again with his free hand, the Penguin's cock still safely inside him. As he was paying attention to the pleading dick, he started to prepare Oswald's opening. Taking the length of the Penguin's penis into his mouth and then, mouth tightly closed, running it down and out, Nygma knelt and started to prepare his own demanding member.

Cobblepot lay back on the bed, his penis a tower not yet satisfied. He was thrashing his head back and forth wanting release.

They were both on the edge when Edward placed the tip of his dripping organ inside Oswald. He was trying to gently ease himself in deeper when Oswald surprised him by desperately and hungrily pushing himself onto the leaking erection, taking it in to its full allowance.

He cried out partly in pain but mostly in pleasure.

" _Ahhhh_..." Oswald uttered. " _Unhhhh_..."

Edward groaned as he felt Oswald clenching.

" _Oh shit_ ," he said as he felt the pure bliss of being lost in Oswald Cobblepot.

Still he put the sensation aside to check on the conditiom of his lover. "Are you okay?" Edward asked.

Oswald just nodded; his head was against the pillow and his eyes were shut in euphoria.

Nygma started to thrust, adopting the familiar rythmn effortlessly. Oswald accepted and moved with it.

" _Edward_ ," Oswald pleaded and Edward grabbed onto the Penguin's pulsating penis, rubbing it up and down as he continued his thrusting. Oswald came, a furious and large amount of cum spraying onto Nygma's hands and body.

Covered in his lover's semen, Edward fell onto Oswald desperately searching for and suceeding in finding the other man's lips. Oswald leaned forward to close the distance and Nygma felt his lover's penis still twitching as it let go the last of its seed. Oswald's arms grabbed onto the Riddler's back, digging his nails into it. He intensified his movement trying to help his lover climax too. The two men kissed; it was a kiss marked with passion. Neither was thinking of the last few months and their sad events; the only thought they had was of their bodies joined in this act of giving and taking; in the same physical act mirrored in the emotions of their hearts.

Ed Nygma came as his mouth was still pressed against Oswald's. Cobblepot fiercely clutched Ed's full ass as he took in his lover's release.

Both men were spent but remained reluctant to separate.  The sweat coating both of their bodies mixed and Oswald ran a hand through Edward's dark hair. The Riddler enjoyed the feeling of resting on Cobblepot's bouncy girth. It was like resting on a cloud: a sensation he had missed very much. Nygma kissed Oswald's forehead and in return the other man bestowed a kiss on the curve of his jaw.

Looking at each other for a moment they rested their foreheads together.

"The satin sheets are going to need a good washing," Nygma commented.

"I was thinking about having them framed," Oswald said. Edward believed he was serious until the man started to laugh. Nygma soon echoed the sound.

Their laughter joined together like their bodies, like their souls.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Edward Nygma contemplates several answers and admires his favorite work of art.

Several nights had passed, the satin sheets had been washed, the air conditioning turned on and Edward was preparing for bed as he explained a complex matter involving his imaginary jewel heist.

Oswald lay on his back on the bed listening to his lover's explanation.

" _Why_ did we do it?" Oswald suddenly interrupted

"Do what Oswald?" Edward asked buttoning the top to his pajamas.

"Commit a crime when we knew that Batman would just catch us and put us away?" the Penguin asked; there was a look of pure confusion on his face as if his time on the straight and narrow had given him perspective. "We spent all that time on something that was just going to land us in j-jail."

Cobblepot stumbled over the word; it felt unpleasant to say.

Edward sighed, studied his lover; he looked at the second last button and then back into the Penguin's eyes. "I think we were hoping he'd have an off day. You know like those poor saps who play the lottery every Tuesday. That was our lottery: Batman has an off day and we best him. We'd get the gold _and_ the glory."

A flicker of nostalgia flashed across Oswald's face. "Oh yes..."

Edward grinned widely. "Weren't those moments always fantastic when we thought we had gotten him? Didn't the air smell fresher and the food taste a little bit better?"

Oswald smiled. "Everything did... Except for the sex, of course. _That_  has always been _perfect_."

The two ex-criminals leered at each other from across the bedroom, the Riddler sticking his tongue out lewdly. Oswald threw a pillow at him playfully. Edward caught it and tossed it back.

Nygma buttoned the final button.

"Edward could you remind me to get Horace to call somebody about the problem with the air conditioning?"

Nygma's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "There's no problem with the air conditioning. It's working just fine."

"That's what I mean," Oswald complained. "I liked it better when you came to bed naked."

Without a word the Riddler undid the minute's previous work and tossed aside all of his clothing.

He stood on full display for a moment, basking in the Penguin's appreciative stare.

"Better?"

" _Much_ ," Oswald cooed.

Nygma crawled into bed, leaning over Cobblepot who threw his arms around his neck and kissed him as if his design was to devour him whole.

The fate of any sheet to drape Oswald and Edward's bed was to not remain clean for too long.

* * *

After their conversation, Edward thought he saw an itch being renewed in Oswald's eye. He found him taking a more active interest in the scheme to steal the Eastern Star.

Nygma even felt emboldened enough to show the Penguin the umbrella he had designed for him.

"It has a two way communication system. I was inspired by the monitors. We could talk back and forth every step of the way," Ed explained. "I have my own hidden in the head of my cane. Plus it still has capability for flight and a magnet which will attract bullets. Any ammunition would be repelled from you and collected in a pocket in the middle."

Oswald had opened the umbrella inside the room and twirled it in delight.

"That's bad luck," Riddler warned.

"I don't really care, Ed Nygma," Oswald smiled.

Nygma grabbed his pudgy lover and lifted him off the ground. He twirled him around the room in an imitation of the swirling umbrella. They made a dazzling splash of purple and green across the space of the floor. Though the shorter man weighed much more than the taller man, he carried him as if he weighed no more than a feather from off of the bird from which he had garnered his name. His back may indeed chastise him in the morning but Ed Nygma didn't give a damn.

Cobblepot giggled as Edward widely grinned.

"The plan's almost done," the Riddler said when he had put his lover back on the floor. "Did you want to try it out for real?"

Oswald looked as if he wanted to say yes but he only shook his head.

Nygma kissed the top of the Penguin's head to show him it was all right and that he understood.

One fact alone still prevented Oswald from completely giving in to his desire: arrest and return to Blackgate.

* * *

About a month before the Emerald Star was to arrive at the Gotham City Museum, Oswald and Edward were in the back seat of the limo when Edward saw Oswald's face turn white as he was reading the Gotham Gazette.

"What is it?" Edward asked.

"It's Bruce Wayne."

Nygma kept quiet as he waited for further elaboration. " _And_?" He finally asked after about a minute had passed.

"He's donating $250 million dollars to Blackgate to improve security services."

"To help keep the inmates in?"

"No," Oswald said his voice lowering as he still stared at the article. "It's to help protect the inmates from each other and prevent...prevent attacks and prison rapes."

Edward reached over and took his lover's hand. Oswald looked grateful for the action.

"He's also donating money to Arkham to hire more professionals to aid with mental health provision."

Edward smirked at the notion; he was not looking forward to meeting any new shrinks after having met his fill already.

Oswald remained quiet on the rest of the way to the Iceberg Lounge; hand still clasped with Edward's, he stared out the window deep in thought.

"Th-that is so _kind_ of him," he finally broke the silence. " _Why_ would he do something like that?"

From the hitch in the Penguin's voice Edward knew that his lover had been extremely moved by the philanthropist's gesture.

Nygma had no answer to give him, only a nagging disquiet at the back of his mind.

* * *

Having reached the Lounge, Oswald and Ed went straight to the office. It was only ten o'clock in the morning and the place was mostly vacant except for a few wealthy drunkards at the bar. Cobblepot still seemed deep in his reflections and Nygma knew enough to give his lover time for inner contemplation. He would be there for him when he decided to talk.

In the meantime, the Riddler sat behind his desk staring at the museum blueprints once more under a magnifying glass. Oswald sat on the office's sofa rereading the newspaper for the hundredth time. Though the Penguin was unaware of it, Ed kept stealing glances at him to make sure he was okay.

Suddenly Horace appeared in the doorway; there was a frightened look on his hangdog face.

"Boss can you come check out the rib eyes that came in this morning? They smell kind of funny."

"Define 'kind of funny,'" Oswald asked turning around to peer at the man over the back of the couch.

"Like that time I forgot to remove that body from the trunk of the limo for two weeks."

Oswald's nose crinkled up in disgust.

"Did you want me to handle it?" Nygma asked lowering the magnifying glass.

Oswald waved his hand, shooing the suggestion away. "I'll do it."

Penguin threw the paper onto the table and followed Horace out of the room.

Edward Nygma stared at the paper left behind and frowned. Placing the magnifying glass on the desk, he slowly stood and walked towards the abandoned copy of the Gotham Gazette.

Something was nagging at the back of the Riddler's always overactive mind; some glimmer of a thought that would not let him catch it but refused to stop taunting him to try.

The man in the glasses picked up the newspaper and with furrowed brows began to search for the article that had birthed the sensation of a million rodents with small and busy feet running across his brain.

He found it soon enough:

_**"BILLIONAIRE BRUCE WAYNE TO DONATE MILLIONS FOR PRISONER WELFARE."** _

Skimming through the text Nygma became bored. It only discussed what Oswald had already stated. As the article was droning on about the hiring of several more phychiatrists at Arkham,  one of whom was a supposedly promising new female pshchoanalyst named Harleen Quinzel, Nygma's eyes drifted to the story's accompanying photograph.

"Cute," he muttered.

The photograph showed Bruce Wayne shaking hands with Commissionor Gordon. Wayne's ward Dick Grayson, who looked much older than the last time Nygma had seen him, was by his side. Young Barbara Gordon stood by her father. Grayson was looking at Barbara quite fondly while Barbara was making eyes at Wayne. _There_ was a disaster waiting to happen, Nygma thought. Poor old Bruce, he probably didn't even...

...

The world shifted as a truth not seen for years finally entered the Riddler's mind. Ed Nygma stared at the man in the photograph and knew him for the first time.

Of course it had always been _far_ too obvious. But as with most truths sometimes the most blatant ones were the most difficult to see.

The Riddler searched the article for everything directly concerning Bruce Wayne finally resting on a specific passage:

**"I am sure that there will be a few people that will frown on Wayne Enterprises donating to make our criminal institutions safer," Bruce Wayne said in the statement released with the news of the donation. "Some may argue that a criminal deserves whatever ill treatment they find inside a prison's walls. They may remind me that the man who left me an orphan, no doubt, spent his time in and out of such institutions. My parents instilled in me the belief that two wrongs will never make a right, however. By extending a hand to save our enemies we may perhaps save ourselves. I was reminded recently that even our foes are human and perhaps have been broken in one way or another. How do we fix what has been broken? There is no satisfactory solution to that question. It seems that life only offers us fragmented answers to unsolvable riddles."**

The Riddler fell onto the couch. It was as if Batman himself had punched him. In a way, maybe, he had.

"He had to have known..." Ed Nygma said to himself. "He's not stupid. He _had_ to have known I would figure it out."

The man had to be as crazy as any villain he had sent to Arkham. It was a move akin to suicide and beyond foolish.

Remembering Batman's strange smile and his statement of gratitude before he had jumped from the building, Nygma realized the man had known the risk even then of expressing his gratitude for a long past good deed. He had to have realized only a handful of citizens from that day had lingered in Gotham; had to have known whose return had coincided with the Dark Knight's appearance; _h_ _ad_  to have considered that a certain Boy Wonder was the exact same age as a rich man's teenage ward. And even then if those had gone by without notice surely Wayne's charitable move would _not_ have.

Still the self righteous prick had done it.

Yet another unsolvable riddle to add to the others.

Was the man so inexorably committed to doing what he felt was right that he did so at the risk of his and those he loved's own personal safety, Nygma pondered?

Maybe, the Riddler answered.

Or maybe Batman had seen in his enemy's pain that night on the roof the empathy that had come into existence and he had been willing to bet that no more could the Riddler harm an innocent to garner revenge on a nemesis.

Was such an understanding what made him Batman?

Perhaps he was still nothing more than a lost boy crying out in pain beside the lifeless bodies of his parents and he recognized pain similar to his own. Maybe, in truth, the boy had never truly left that dark city street and all the years after had been nothing more than make believe.

The city suddenly seemed comprised of the saints and the damned and all that lay between: an ocean of the damaged some of whom had healed and some who still were bleeding.

They once were lost but they were rarely, if ever, found in Gotham.

Edward Nygma stood and returned the paper to the table.

In the end did it really matter who Batman was underneath the mask?

The Riddler didn't think so.

If a billionaire decided to run around dressed like a giant bat in order to make the demons go away what did it matter?

As the man had said, they were _all_ broken.

Ed had told Oswald they belonged to the night. Batman did too. That was where their battles with the Dark Knight should and would remain.

Batman had gambled and won.

Standing, Nygma walked towards the office door.

The Riddler did know one thing however: if Batman _ever_ harmed Oswald Cobblepot then all bets were off and all actions considered fair.

* * *

Edward found Oswald in the Iceberg's wine cellar. 

"What are you doing down here, Oswald?" Ed asked.

"Looking for something," Cobblepot asked. He searched the rack for a bit, and then turning to look at his lover, backed up in shock. "Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"Not a ghost. A bat," Nygma thought but didn't say it. "Just a little hungry. It's lunchtime. We should go and eat."

"In a bit. Just need to do something first," Oswald said as he searched the rack again. "I should really label these better...oh here it is!"

He pulled out a bottle and handed it to Ed. "I'm going to send that to Bruce. A little thank you. He won't really know why but it's the thought that counts."

Edward knew Bruce Wayne would understand far better than the Penguin would ever know. Studying his lover, Nygma wondered if he should tell Penguin the truth. He quickly decided against it. It would only lead to revelations that may only embarrass Oswald or take him back to a bad place. The man was smiling so boyishly Edward loathed the slightest chance of stealing that smile away.

"This is the second best wine here," Ed Nygma said reading the label.

"I know," Oswald picked up another bottle and smiled happily. " _This_ is the first. But we're going to keep this one."

On the drive back to the Van Dahl mansion Oswald specifically requested to be taken past Blackgate. When Edward had asked him if he was positive he wanted to do that, he had swallowed hard and fiercely nodded his head.

Penguin asked Horace to stop in front of the prison. When they had, Cobblepot rolled down the windows.

" _DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL!_ " Oswald shouted at the building.

He rolled up the window. "Head on home Horace."

Penguin turned to the Riddler and placed a hand on his knee. "I'm glad you're sitting beside me this time, Ed."

Edward took the hand and squeezed it proudly.

They drank the bottle of wine together that night in bed.

* * *

A week before the Eastern Star was to arrive in Gotham, Edward Nygma lay in bed holding the smiling and afterglowing form of Oswald Cobblepot. He held his plump Penguin from behind, nibbling on his ear. Peace had settled on them both after the act of love.

"You really want to try for it, don't you?" Oswald asked. "Not just in your imagination?"

"Yes," Edward answered truthfully nuzzling his cheek against the Penguin's ear. "I won't if you don't want me to though. I mean that"

"I don't know...I was thinking," Oswald said.

"You know that's unwise, Oswald. I'm the brains and you're the heart in this operation," Nygma teased.

"Still...maybe it's time we gave Jim Gordon a reason to live again."

Edward propped himself up on an elbow and studied Cobblepot. "Do you mean..."

The Penguin nodded as he looked into the Riddler's dark eyes. "I feel like stealing something _big_ and _shiny_ ," Oswald smiled wickedly.

Edward Nygma took his lover's face in his hands and kissed him passionately.

* * *

A masterpiece. In a dark room that smelled of sex and sweat, Oswald Cobblepot felt Edward Nygma staring at him like he was some kind of piece of art hanging in a museum instead of only an overweight, aging gangster.

It would fade in time probably. All things did.

Even the Eastern Star would lose its luster someday and just become another pretty ornament to whoever was lucky enough to take it, Cobblepot thought. Dust collected and cracks showed in everything even if it was just affection.

Even so, Oswald was just happy to bask in it for as long as it stayed.

And who knew... It was Edward Nygma after all; the man had a tendency to love passionately despite his indifferent veneer. Obsession it had often been labelled. Oswald only knew it as love. It was an emotion he reciprocated with his entire being.

In the end maybe the heart could lose its interest in cold material things but it had a more difficult time when it came to the warm beating heart of another human being. While Oswald had often forgotten about some rare treasure stashed away in his vault he had, and never would, forget about the man who called himself the Riddler.

Oswald remembered the day when he had left Blackgate months previously, feeling the sharp edges of a thousand fractures. All had been cast in shadows and he had thought himself worthless. Now here he was lying beside a man that was looking at him like he was beyond price.

Yes, Oswald thought, it had been dark and he had been broken.

But God must have one twisted sense of humour that after years of trying to break each other Edward Nygma had been the one, in that darkness, to help put him back together.

* * *

Hours later, the Penguin having finally drifted off, Nygma remained awake still staring at the sleeping man's face. There was no distress on Oswald's features, no sign of bad dreams only a calm and restful slumber. Edward traced his lover's cheek and then caressed it gently with the back of his fingers.

_How do we fix what has broken?_

Perhaps, the Riddler thought, the answer was quite simple, though in the pain and confusion that surrounded tragedy it was often obscured and difficult to see and some became lost in the fog of that darkness.

When something was broken, the many shards scattered here and there, it seemed an intimidating task. Despair tried to fool you into thinking anything was a hopeless effort...But if you loved what was broken enough you merely took the time to gather the broken fragments together even if your fingers tore and bled as you picked those fragments up.

" _How do you fix what has been broken?_ " the Riddler thought as he gently brushed the Penguin's lips.

" _You do it piece by piece._ "

The Penguin stirred serenely but did not waken. Staring at Oswald's face, Edward Nygma rested his head down on the pillow next to his lover and slept.

 _You did it moment of peace by moment of peace_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who stayed with this fic from its beginning to its end. I am forever grateful for your kindness and support. You all rock!
> 
> One of the things that really haunted me about the germ of the idea for this story was Edward loving Oswald so much that he was willing, in his desperation, to swallow his pride and seek help from his worst enemy. When you are looking for answers they often times lead you to places you never expected.
> 
> Of course, it all lead to Edward figuring out Batman's true identity but that seems a given from Ed eventually anyway. He may not be as smart as he likes to think but he certainly is not an idiot. He'd realize it sooner or later. This just provides a reason why he'd be willing never to use such a discovery for his personal benefit.
> 
> I had to add that bit about Harleen Quinzel because, as often is the case in life, Bruce's good intentions won't go the way he had hoped.
> 
> They will for Ed and Ozzie though. Don't worry. They have each other and they will always be okay for that very reason. <3
> 
> Thanks so much again guys and God bless! :D <3

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure how long this will be. I thought of the idea for it before "The Beginning..." aired. It wasn't supposed to be long but it progressed to the point of needing multiple chapters to fulfill the vision I have in my messed up brain. It's scary in there. I advise you to enter with supreme caution.
> 
> Note: This is giving me trouble stating it is multiple chapters. Looks like it will fix itself once chapter two is posted. Until then I ask for mercy and understanding.


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